A Day of Janitorial Work at Konoha
by E. E. Solomon
Summary: AU!Crack. OC!Janitor scores a job at Konoha. Everyone's high, probably. Blood in the hallways, not-rabbits, arms get hacked off, machetes, and iPods. Read at your own risk. Rated for violence.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't know what I was on when I wrote this, but it was definitely something. Really. SOMETHING. OC, murder, emulation of highness kinda, or possibly actual highness. I don't really know. Look, it's just...not that great.**

**But, hey, I'm coming back from kind-of-retirement as far as the fanfiction department goes. This was spur-of-the-moment, though - don't expect more. Fortunate if you do NOT like my work, unfortunate if you do. I'm sure most of you will be of the former.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Naruto. You fuckers better be damned glad about it, too.  
**

The sun was beating down gracefully upon Konoha village. It was a picturesque day, and to make sure that things stayed that way, the village had scrounged up enough money to hire a janitor from the nearby nation that nobody had ever heard of. He walked triumphantly into the town, brandishing his mop, bucket, awkward cap, and freakishly long white beard. Someone made a comment as they passed. Something about someone named Fidel or something, after which the other promptly slapped him and asked what the fuck he was on about. Larry, as the noble knight in janitor's armor was called, dramatically donned his headphones. Slowly and gracefully pulling out the other end, he flashed his iPod to the world and it glinted in the glorious sunlight as he chose a most marvelous song to listen to: the elegant and dramatic Blue Danube Waltz.

He spent the rest of his day without any dramatic stances, poses, exclamations, brandishings, or anything else that might make you mistake this fanfiction for some kind of junky prose. It's not, stop kidding yourself.

There was one part in the day, though, that he was daintily swinging his hips to the music and pretty much poledancing with the mop. It creeped out one of the local children, which he then proceeded to follow into the school. Or whatever the hell it is. The place where they learn to beat the shit out of people using their crazy words. Larry, of course, would have none of this. He was cleaning the floors the conventional way, goddammit, even if that meant he had to take out a machete and brutally murder someone. Well, he'd probably do that anyways, actually.

In fact, as he glanced up in a strange...almost narrated synchronization to his music...he noted the small boy from earlier. The boy must've sensed Larry's eyes upon him; he turned around and smiled nervously, offering a wave to the old man. The old man, dancing and swaying to the music again, swished his mop around in his bucket before dramatically dunking his hand into it. He held the pose for a moment before springing back up and towards the boy, making sure to tap his feet together in midair, and had pulled a (THREE GUESSES! C'mon, you're clever! No, not a cleaver.) machete and proceeded to whack the boy to pieces as the music came to its peak. Since the kid was dead before the song started to loop again, Larry improvised; first, he continued to butcher the kid until he was pretty much unrecognizable, and then he started mopping the floor with any entrails he'd managed to keep intact.

Again, he dropped the whole dramatic shit and just went back to mopping. What, you think he'd keep killing with that kind of a fucking mess in the hallway? As if.

It wasn't long before another unsuspecting group of students managed to wander his way, only this time, they were older...and they could see the machete sticking out of a mess of blood on the floor. "What the fuck!? BELIEVE IT!" shouted one of them. The other male proceeded to pick up the machete and promptly slice his arm off, being the emo bitch that we all know he is. The pink-haired girl helped him to get his other arm off, since it was something of a problem to him now. With the other two satisfied, the yellow haired loudmouth decided it was time to kick ass and take names. A name. The kind of name that began with an L and ended in an Arry. Yeah, he was gonna beat Larry's sorry ass into the ground, for those of you who're slow.

Naruto stopped dead in front of the old man, who simply continued to mop, and started doing the hokey pokey. "YEAYA! Ya do the hokey pokey and BELIEVE IT!" Shaking his ass a few times, many clones of himself popped out of nowhere. Ever seen how rabbits do it? Well, admittedly, Naruto's pretty talented. He can do that a lot faster, AND without anyone else's help. Yeah. Fucking AWESOME.

So, while the rabbit legion began its assualt upon the poor old guy, emo kid (who still has no arms) decided he'd attempt to behead himself and end his miserable life since the loss of blood didn't seem to do it well enough. He knew it was incredibly strange, but hell. No time for that, time to behead himself. Picking up the machete with his teeth, he realized that he couldn't reach his neck, either. "SHIZKDLAJT" he attempted to curse through the machete. Unfortunately, the magnitude of his expletive was so incredible that he wound up spitting it right through the air and through several members of the rabbit legion. It landed safely in Larry's hand, who held it up triumphantly as his eye glinted enough to fill eighteen frames before disappearing. Most of the remaining rabbit legion began madly squeaking around the room.

Naruto scratched his head, wonder why the hell his shadow clones were suddenly making rabbit and chipmunk noises. Before he could think harder on it, Larry began to slaughter his rabbit armies. "NOOO! NOT THE RABBITS!...rabbits?...Rabbits. All right, whatever. RABBITS! NOT THEM! BELIEVE IT!" In a spur of the moment fucktardedness, he rammed himself into the machete before anything else could be done.

The gaping hole in Naruto's chest began to slowly swirl inwards, drawing in the nearby air. Larry had of course gone back to being a stupid old man with nothing better to do than mop the floors. Nobody saw it coming, but soon, the entire universe had been sucked into the black hole that formed from the lack of a main character. Luckily for Larry, though, the waltz had just completed a loop and didn't quite get to start the next. Had that occurred, he'd have had an OCD attack or something and started slaughtering angels. Nobody wants that.

Believe it.


End file.
